


The Devil's In The Detail

by BohoOddity



Category: Space Force (TV)
Genre: Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohoOddity/pseuds/BohoOddity
Summary: A trip to Washington results in a difficult time for the Space Force branch. Naird's position is tenuous, POTUS' opinion polls are sliding, and politics over truth still rule the day. When an unexpected event causes everything to turn on its head, will they make it through?
Comments: 13
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Brad paced back and forth around the control room, the soft shuffling of his boots and gentle tapping of keys the only distraction from his thoughts. He was not a superstitious person, but years in the military had taught him to always listen to his gut. Between waking up this morning and his ride into work he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was going to happen. It was the same feeling he’d had mere minutes before he’d dragged an injured Naird from the downed F16, and the memory of it still made him sick to his stomach. He might have no longer been on the front lines, but that didn’t mean the stakes weren’t still high. Downed communications could mean the difference between life and death on the battlefield and it would be just his luck to happen on his watch.

“You know, sir,” Chan began, pulling Brad from his thoughts, “we carry out these checks all the time, there is no need to stay and watch.”

Brad stopped his pacing and turned back towards the younger man, whose eyes were still glued to the computer screen. Chan’s tense shoulders and the gentle tapping on the edge of the keyboard the only signs of his frustrations. “I know…I’m distracting you aren’t I?” He grimaced glancing around at the bemused expressions of the science team. Duncan Tabner though remained ever diligent at the glass door.

  
“A little,” Dr. Chan answered honestly, leaning back in his chair and relaxing his posture. A few months ago he would have found the General’s pacing hugely frustrating, but with Naird and Mallory’s frequent trips to Washington, it had become part of the tapestry of working in the control room.

“I’m sorry,” Brad said as he took a seat next to Chan, “It’s just every time General Naird leaves me in charge, something goes wrong.”

“I don’t know about _wrong_ , the uniforms were an amusing distraction and that _was_ mostly Tony.” Chan pointed out, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank heavens he’s in Washington…” Chan smirked, the rivalry between Tony and Brad legendary around the base and the source of never-ending amusement. “Have you heard from them?” He was fairly sure he hadn’t, Mallory had taken to calling in-between the various meetings and discussions, clearly frustrated and bored with what he viewed as ‘military jackassery’ but he had yet to make a call today.

Brad shook his head and sighed. “Not since this morning. The General said he’d call after lunch.”

The General’s trips to Washington had become frequent since the incident on the moon. The truth of ‘Moongate’, as Tony unoriginally coined it, had escaped the attention of the public. As far as they knew, the destruction of both the US and Chinese bases had been down to a severe meteor shower damaging the lightweight construction material. The damage to both modules had been explained away by the proximity to each other near the Sea of Tranquility, and the fields of Mallory were now known as an example of international collaboration and the ability to pull together in times of adversity. It was a shoddy excuse, but with both the Chinese and American sides keen to avoid any talk of war crimes, it had suited both their purposes.

Although the meteor strike was a blazing lie, the teams had worked extensively together to get everyone home safely, eventually requiring the help of a Russian expedition on their way to lay their claim. It was one time they were all grateful for the race to set up on the moon. Russia was only too happy to oblige and become international heroes and other countries that knew the truth decided not to deviate from official reports, the start of WW3 to be avoided for another day. It had come at a price though. It was yet another perceived failure for Space Force, and with the true details of events hushed up, Space Force had become something of a thorn on the side of the president’s opinion polls. Election year was fast approaching, and with it, the pressure was on for exemplary results.

* * *

Dr. Mallory took another sip from his drink at the bar, watching from afar as Tony worked his magic around the room, enjoying a moment's break from the constant stream of conversation from those around him. This was not how he imagined spending his time, but it was mildly more entertaining than sitting in another government hallway. Mark had left the two of them on the bench outside the Joint Chief’s room three hours ago, promising to only be ‘a few minutes’, and in that time Adrian had quickly found out just how well Tony could turn anything into an opportunity.

Tony had spent most of the morning quiet and sulky, having missed out on breakfast — entirely Mark’s fault— and having been dragged around to numerous meetings he couldn’t speak in. The General had awoken both of them early in a panic, believing he’d lost a highly classified report. Although it had been a false alarm, the adrenaline rush, early morning rise, and skipped meal had left them all tired, hungry, and a little crabby. As a peace offering, Mark had promised to take them out to lunch so they had patiently waited for his impromptu meeting to finish. However, after thirty minutes of fidgeting and playing on his phone, Tony had wandered off, returning not long after with the biggest grin, immensely proud of whatever he’d just pulled off.

“I found breakfast!”

Breakfast, it turned out, was an event just a block away. Adrian wasn’t entirely certain what the event was in aid of, but the room held a handful of politicians and he’d spotted several investors and tech entrepreneurs. Quite how Tony had managed to swing an invite he wasn’t sure but it was paying off, with the media manager gaining several promising contacts and offers of collaboration. He was reluctant to admit it, but Tony had stepped up his game since his first days at Space Force.

Perhaps feeling the older man’s gaze upon him and noticing the time, Tony finished up with his current company, bidding goodbye before grabbing a drink for a nearby tray and making his way across the room. “Hasn’t this been great?” He grinned excitedly, his mood had greatly improved after picking at the canapes and refreshments. “You wouldn’t believe the number of contacts I’ve made, and I think I found someone to invest in inChan’s project.”

“Good work,” Adrian praised, and he did mean it. It had been frustrating to see his team come up with solid research ideas only to be held back by a lack of resources. “Although perhaps we should ease up on the free drinks. We do have another meeting later this afternoon.” At that moment his phone began to ring. Noticing that Mallory had switched to orange juice, Tony nodded his agreement and placed the champagne flute back on the bar. He was feeling rather relaxed and had a hard time keeping quiet at the best of times.

“Hello, stranger.” Adrian answered sardonically, after three hours he’d lost all patience with the General’s ‘few minutes’.

“ _I know, I know. I’m sorry._ _Where are you? Is Tony with you?_ _”_ He hoped he was, who knew what havoc their media manager could wreck unsupervised around a political hotspot.

He didn’t have to wait for Adrian’s reply before Tony interjected loudly. “Is that the General? General! We’re at a party!”

“ _Party? What the hell?! I left you in the hall!”_

“Three hours Mark, you really think we were going to wait for three hours?”

“Yes, okay, I said I was sorry….” He paused for a moment as his traitorous stomach let out a loud gurgle, “We probably don’t have time to find a restaurant before this afternoon. Is there food at this gig?”

“Why do you think we are here?” He paused for a moment, contemplating whether it was worth the hassle before another growl from his stomach decided for him.

“What’s the address?”

* * *

Brad continued to watch the viewscreen with mild interest, aware that they had almost finished. Chan was perfectly orchestrating the numerous tasks between the scientists leaving Brad little to do but watch. He probably could have returned to the office, but truth be told it was lonely at the top. He much preferred being part of the action, down in the nerve center. He knew Mark and Mallory were the same, and that was the real reason the latest launch had been scheduled for the end of the week. Neither could resist the thrill of watching a rocket launch when faced with the alternative of meetings or paperwork.

Brad had popped out briefly to check in with various other people around the base, his earlier fears apparently unfounded as everyone had shown their military or scientific efficiency and achieved their objectives without issue. He had soon returned, candies in hand for the team, always feeling at home around the motley crew of scientists and content to just watch them work. He was finally feeling settled when Tony’s previous antics ruined his mood.

“ _My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard… and the_ _ir_ _like ‘it’s better than yours…’_ _”_ His phone blared as the number for a hair restoration clinic in Denver called for the fifth time that week. Damn Tony.

“Wait, is that your ringtone?” Ranatunga pipped up from one of the front desks, although Wolf, Vandeveld, and Chan all looked equally bemused. Kelis didn’t seem like the General’s taste. He blushed slightly, swiping the call away, half tempted to put the phone on silent but knowing General Naird would call soon. “It’s Fuck Tony, he changed it before he left and I don’t know how to change it back.” A stifled chuckle could be heard from Vandeveld, directed at Tony’s antics. They would have felt sorry for Brad were it not for his ability to get Tony back with his own pranks, they had very quickly learned that Brad wasn’t as dim as others believed. You don’t get to the rank of General without a good reason.

“I can show you how to change it back if you like.” Chan offered as his screen waiting for the current results to come through.

“Do you mind? It’s been driving me crazy since he left.” The General handed the phone over to Chan, who proceeded in a few quick steps to show the General how to change it back. He really needed to get better at technology if he was going to be at Space Force, he wasn’t terrible, but one new phone had him confused for weeks. “Oh, that was easy. I don’t know when he did it. He can be so damn crafty when he wants to be.” The others could only nod in agreement, but they also knew Brad no doubt had something already in mind to get him back, their sibling-like rivalry causing all of them no end of amusement.

“It’s getting late, I thought we would have heard from them by now,” Chan commented. 

“Tony posted some photos on Instagram,” Ranatunga piped up, “It looks like they are at an event.”

Brad looked momentarily confused, not remembering any plans for an event on the General’s schedule, but knowing that Tony had a strange knack of turning around any situation to his advantage. ‘Oh well,’ Brad thought to himself, ‘maybe they will come back in better spirits’.

* * *

It was sometime later that Adrian watched Mark approach with a plate in hand, as he took his place next to him and Tony at the bar, Tony deep in conversation with one of the investors. The General had politely introduced himself to many as he entered the room, ensuring that he’d made an effort despite his mood. The room was still filled with numerous people, and even though some guests had taken their leave, it was still rather crowded. The free drinks on offer though had left the bar relatively empty, affording them some privacy and space. Adrian couldn’t help but notice how Mark looked utterly fed up, the last few days of bureaucracy taking a heavy toll on his spirit. “How was your meeting?” He asked, hoping to get a glimpse of what was bothering him, but the General just shook his head, a signal not to ask. After working together for over a year, Adrian had learned when to push – and when not to --- this was the latter.

“Well, there is some good news, Tony may have secured some funding for Chan’s research...”

“Oh for the love of… We can’t keep growing hair on plants, Adrian. I can’t go into an appropriations meeting on Chan’s Frankenstein experiments.” He said quietly, careful to ensure that a group nearby couldn’t hear.

“It’s an ethical, environmentally, and economically sound alternative to fur and textile industry, and quite frankly if it’s the success we think it will be the patent and licensing alone will be more than enough...” He didn’t get any further as Mark waved him away, “We’ll talk about this later.”

He wasn’t in the mood for another debate, he’d spent far too long already defending his position to Blandsmith with an occasional metaphorical boot in from Kick. Since the events on the moon, every single detail, action, and decision had been met by intense scrutiny and he was feeling the pressure. The other Joint Chiefs though were defending his decisions, much to his surprise, the usual inter-services rivalry making way for a commitment to never see events on the moon repeated. No Joint Chief wanted war, having seen far too much human tragedy and destruction to make that decision without due cause – except for Kick, who had lost any sense of honor and duty, instead of hell-bent on grabbing as much glory for himself as he could, whatever the price.

He took a moment to survey the room, having not stopped since entering the building, keen to ensure he didn’t put his foot in it with anyone. The well-dressed people and smell of perfumes reminded him of past functions with Maggie and Erin, the soft accompanying music a reminder of happier times. Maggie loved events like this, the fun and glamour, the chance to make new friends. He often took a back-seat and let Maggie work the room as she did it so well, always offering a polite word, strong healthy debate, or an encouraging smile to a fledgling politico. He shook away the thoughts, ‘no point being nostalgic’.

As his eyes swept to his side of the room he noticed something of concern. Amid friends catching up and smiles as new connections were made, there was a stern figure standing in the kitchen doorway, close to the bar. He was looking around the room but instead of warmth, it held nothing but anger and contempt. He wanted to wave it off as military paranoia, but he couldn’t ignore his gut. He’d seen that look before too many times in the field, a look of absolute fury at the people before him, and his stance was awkward, almost like… Mark’s blood ran cold, his heart began to pound, his adrenaline pumping... instinct taking over his body as he tried to close the distance…

Then chaos descended.


	2. Chapter 2

He coasted the edge of consciousness, people around him were talking but he couldn’t comprehend. There was a constant ringing in his ears, voices were muffled as if he had his head underwater. Why were his ears ringing? Where were they? He tried again to look up but the edges of his vision were black, what he could see was muted, almost grey.

He couldn’t make out who was in front of him, just a flash of fast-moving hands as they leaned over his stomach, the pressure causing shock waves of burning pain to radiate through him. Why were they hurting him? Didn’t they understand? Why wouldn’t they leave him alone? He tried to fight them back but stronger hands held him down. He didn’t have the energy. His heart was racing and he couldn’t understand why. The ringing slowly dissipated, but the voices still somewhat muffled, few words breaking through his befuddled mind...

“...stay awake…”

No, he didn’t want to stay awake, he was tired, he just needed to sleep. Yes, sleep would be welcome. It was too cold, the warmth pooling around his sides the only comfort. Wait, why was he in water? The sensations were building now, the pain in his stomach was excruciating. He was so confused, nothing made any sense. He tried once more to push the hands off, to take the pain away but he had no strength, with his last effort he let the darkness take him.

* * *

It was just after 1 pm when the scientists had finally finished their checks. They had been more thorough than usual, typing up notes in impressive detail, mostly to please Brad who had unintentionally become a ‘back seat driver’ in the scientific process. He’d spent almost the entire morning hovering as if expecting some great calamity to befall a satellite, and it had them all feeling a little uneasy. It had though been a diversion to an otherwise dull procedure, and the result had satisfied, finally settling the 1* General.

It wasn’t long after that his phone rang, breaking the silence that filled the room as they took a break. Brad picked up his phone, only to look momentarily confused by the caller.“It’s the SecDef ---the General must be unavailable --- probably still in meetings.” Standing he made his way out into the atrium to answer it, Duncan moving aside to accommodate him, probably glad of the excuse to move after hours of patiently standing.

“Do you think he’s going to hover in the labs?” Dr. Wolf asked, causing all in the room to look over. As much as she didn’t mind Brad, being under the microscope was exhausting, and she had hoped for a quiet afternoon.

Chan was the one to answer, “I don’t think so, he’s more paranoid about someone taking out a satellite.” He turned around to view the General through the glass and frowned. “Although by the look on his face, I don’t think we are getting to the labs today.”

The others followed Chan’s glance to see Brad standing ridged, his hand clenched tightly around the phone as he listened to the other side. He looked shocked and pale, and Chan could make out the slight tremble of his hand. Brad looked up and gestured for Duncan. The young man left the room, Brad quickly closing the remaining distance and discreetly giving him an order. Duncan practically ran out of the building. _‘That’s odd’,_ Chan thought.

The room looked around at each other, all concerned by the sudden change in mood. They’d only seen the General like this before, and that’s when there was a rumor of treason on site. They had little time to contemplate the ramifications before a buzz from Ranatunga’s phone cut through. Feeling all eyes now upon her, she checked, hoping it was just another spam alert by the pizza place, but instead, there was breaking news, she gasped, before looking up at her co-workers. “There’s been a shooting in Washington.”

* * *

Adrian stared at the door, willing by some miracle that he’d walk through as if nothing had happened. The gunman had come out of nowhere, shots cutting through the air as he’d turned to talk to a guest, and mass panic followed as people ran for every exit. Adrian quickly lost all sense of what was happening. Screaming followed by terrified people rushing for exits, the smell of gunpowder overwhelming his senses. It had felt like an eternity, but in reality, it had been almost no time at all before the bangs stopped, leaving a scene of horror.

Time seemed to blur after that, but in between the confusion, he remembered Tony’s desperate shouts for help – the younger man’s hands covered in blood as he desperately tried to stem the flow from his superior’s torso with his jacket.

“…‘ryone…?” Mark had mumbled, having great difficulty getting the words out, the jacket offering little help and he was losing his battle.

“It’s okay...everyone’s okay… you did good, you did great…” Tony’s voice was breaking as he tried to reassure the General. Adrian was certain now that Tony had seen exactly what had happened from where he had stood. The General’s face was pale and clammy as it washed over with a sense of peace. There was too much blood, they both knew that, and exchanged a distressed look between them.

He vaguely heard someone shout that the ambulance was on its way, but it barely registered. Neither did the disturbing handful of smartphones raised around him. Instead, he focused on his friend, his eyes half-open, staring aimlessly ahead. They’d tried their best to keep the pressure on the wound, keep him warm with Adrian’s jacket but it was a losing battle. His skin was now grey, and clammy, he was barely responding to them.

“Mark, you need to stay awake.” He pleaded, trying his best to be calm but authoritative but failing miserably. Mark though didn’t seem to understand and as they continued their ministrations he began hitting them as if fighting off an unseen enemy. They had desperately tried to plea with him, that he was okay, that they were there to help, but their words didn’t penetrate the haze of an agitated mind. Tony had to hold his arms down, while he’d continued to apply pressure, it had though been far too easy to subdue their usually strong leader.

Adrian rubbed his head and pushed the intrusive memories from his mind, turning back towards Tony. He was stood at the empty nurses’ station, absent-mindedly fiddling with the General’s phone, twirling it between his fingers in a soothing rhythm. Adrian couldn’t help but have a twinge of pride that, even in his distressed state, he had the sense to take it before it fell into wrong hands.

“I spoke to the SecDef”, Tony said as Adrian approached, “He’s calling Brad and arranging to get Erin out here.” In truth, neither were ready to take that phone call, but they couldn’t hold off. Rumors of a Joint Chief being taken out had spread like wildfire and the last thing they wanted was for Erin to find out scrolling through her phone. “The White House is sending in some security, to keep the press away.”

Adrian could only nod. “That’s probably wise.” He said as he took a seat to the side. Tony soon followed, finding some comfort being close to someone he knew. Adrian gave a small smile as if reading his mind. Neither could shake the jittery feeling, both felt on edge.

“How are you doing with this?” Tony asked, for once willing to have an open and honest conversation with the scientist.

“I’m… I don’t think it’s sunk in.” He answered, honestly. Realizing they both needed to talk. The trauma they had both gone through was still fresh in their minds, and it felt like a nightmare that they would soon wake from.

“No…” Tony agreed, “I keep expecting him to come round the corner and yell at me over a tweet.” A small smile graced his lips before another thought flashed through his head and his face fell, a lone tear escaping the corner of his eyes which he discreetly wiped away. Adrian had seen it though and placed a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder. “We weren’t supposed to be there.” Tony cracked, “If I just stayed in the corridor, we’d be in another meeting right now instead…”

“It’s not your fault.”

* * *

By the time Brad had ended the call with the SecDef, Captain Ali and Erin were already making quick strides through the atrium behind Duncan; Meal Armstrong’s and the quad space only a short throw away. Brad knew from the look on Angela’s face that she was deeply concerned, and Erin was positively shaking. The looks and whispers as they quickly walked through the quad and the unexpected summons had been a huge clue that something was seriously wrong. He quickly pulled them aside into the meeting space opposite the control room, ensuring what was about to be said would happen in privacy, and gesturing for Erin to sit down.

“Brad,” Erin asked, her voice wavering. “What’s going on?” She asked as she took the seat. She wasn’t a fool and had felt all the eyes on her as Duncan asked her to come to the control room and now she couldn’t hide her fear. She desperately wanted her mum right now; she was terrified of what Brad was about to say.

“I need you to be brave,” he said, preparing her for the bad news to come. “There’s been an incident in Washington, a short while ago your dad was involved in a shooting...” Her stomach had dropped and she interrupted, hands covering her mouth. “Oh god…. Is he…?”  
  
“He’s alive,” he said immediately, quickly dismissing that notion. “He’s in a critical condition, but he is alive. He’s currently in surgery…”

Brad didn’t get to continue as Erin stood up and started to fret. “I need to go, I need to…” She started crying, it dawns on her that with her mum in prison she was on her own and would need to make all the arrangements. “Dad or mum always sorted all this out, I don’t know what I’m doing…”

Brad was grateful at that moment for Captain Ali, who pulled her unlikely friend into a hug. “You have us, we’re here, we will sort this out okay?”

Brad nodded his agreement. “Captain Ali is going to fly you to Peterson airbase, there General Brown has a plane on standby,” Brad said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Someone needs to tell mum…” Erin started to panic again, tears still filling her eyes.

“She’s being told now,” Brad confirmed. “Captain Ali needs time to do the flight checks. Go grab anything you need, Duncan will go with you.” Duncan nodded and they both fled the room, leaving Brad and Angela alone.

“Sir…” She began, unsure of how to ask. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I need you to keep her off social media, clips are circulating.”

“Oh god, of course, sir.”

Brad paused for a moment, “She’s going to need support, can you accompany her to Washington?”

“Yes sir.” She confirmed.

“Then it’s time to go, Captain.” He dismissed, the rarely seen General tone in action, and he watched her sprint out of the room. Brad took a steadying breath, grabbing hold of his emotions before stepping into the atrium. There were times for those later, right now he had a job to do. The expectant faces all around meant that news had traveled quickly. And now it was time to make the announcement he never wanted to make.

* * *

The Joint Chiefs sat impatiently in the room, some occasionally looking at their phones for more information, but finding nothing new. All had been quickly summoned, with a one-liner – ‘Naird’s been shot, get back here NOW.” and with all of them still in Washington it hadn’t taken long to reassemble. They hadn’t even officially announced his name in the press, instead only vague reports of an attack had been given, however, it was only a matter of time as reports and videos rapidly went viral. They occasionally could quiet the press for a short while in the interests of national security of human decency, but the general public had no qualms with sharing anything and everything, no matter how grotesque.

“How’s he looking?” General Rongley, the army chief of staff, asked as Blandsmith entered the room, the clatter of the door attracting everyone’s attention.

“Not good.” His expression was grim. It told the group everything they needed to know, Naird in all likelihood wasn’t going to make it. “The press has agreed to hold off on naming him until his daughter and wife are up to speed, they were told about 10 minutes ago, so we need to quickly sort out what happens with Space Force. We can’t leave it under their 1*, he doesn’t have the experience to run a whole branch…”

“Well that’s easily solved, the Air Force ran their operation before. We’ll take it back…” Kick replied as if he didn’t understand why there was even a discussion needed.

“We can’t do that at this moment in time, we are concerned about China, it might be perceived as a threat,” Blandsmith replied, the other Joint Chiefs nodding in agreement.

“Of course it damn well will Kick gave the orders that nearly killed their people, and China knows that.” The Admiral said, clearly troubled at the idea of Kick having anything to do with Space Force after the last time.

“Who cares what they think? Like they didn’t do the same.” Kick answered.

“We’re trying to avoid escalating tensions…” Blandsmith replied firmly, cutting short any argument between the Joint Chiefs, their rivalry becoming a bitter feud in recent months. The tensions between the US and China looked fine on the face of it, but behind closed doors, there was a very real threat that things could bubble over. “...and there’s the public perception. Your rivalry with Naird is well known in both the Air Force and Space Force, there’s already some conspiracy theories circulating that you ordered the hit.”

Kick, to his credit, did look horrified at that suggestion. “Jesus, I didn’t like the man, it doesn’t mean I’d take him out.”

“He’s not dead yet…” General Dabney Straumm pointed out.

Blandsmith, sensing that things would soon escalate if he didn’t, continued. “POTUS thinks the best course of action would be that the Admiral here has temporary leadership of the Space Force operation.” He gestured to the Chief of Naval Operation who looked to surprise.

“What?” She asked, dumbstruck, no other thoughts coming to her mind. This was not how she expected this to go, and she briefly wondered if she was dreaming. Who gives Space to the Navy?

“He believes it makes sense given that you both deal with ships…” At that, everyone looked at him like he had grown another head, and even Blandsmith looked uncomfortable with the reasoning before he continued, “...We ran it by some focus groups and you poll well. The public like you, they think you are a respectable, dependable...level-headed.”

General Straumm gave a small snigger. Being the marine commandant, he had the pleasure of working closely with her. She was the last person he’d ever want to cross, but he quickly silenced himself as Blandsmith grew impatient, the Admiral though, looked pleased with the reaction – her reputation as hardball amongst her fellows was at least secure. “If we send in the Marines or Army it’s going to look aggressive.”

“What’s the Navy then? A damn ferry service? I don’t give a fuck what his opinion polls say, that should have no bearing on issues of national security.” Blandsmith had the grace to look uncomfortable, agreeing with the sentiment but being unable to express it. There was a moment of silence, everyone in the room thinking things through, before General Rongley, the Army Chief pipped up. “I think it could work, the public see you as a safe pair of hands, and that’s what we need right now.”

“You do have the background to understand the geeks.” General Straumm chimed in, referring to her education and early years in engineering roles in the Navy. “Plus, the public might think you’re Mary-Poppins but our enemies know not to screw with you…” He gave her a wry smile, their years of working closely side by side on a variety of joint ops meant he probably knew her better than everyone else in the room.

Blandsmith, sensing a positive shift in the mood, carried on. It wasn’t a choice, but he’d rather she was willingly behind it. “We’re scrubbing the upcoming launches for the next two weeks. It’s just long term projects and general day-to-day stuff, and Brad, the 1*, is great at the admin, we think it will be manageable in the short term. We can’t appoint a 3* without it looking like Naird’s replacement… we just need...”

“A babysitter.” She sighed. She knew they were right, however odd it sounded. Tensions with China were at an all-time high, ships were patrolling across the edges of international waters in a sign of military power. They really couldn’t send Kick in, she’d had enough interactions to know it would undoubtedly be seen as a hostile action. That, and quite frankly, she didn’t trust him. It was common knowledge amongst those high up that he was being investigated at every opportunity by Petosi, and he was doing everything he could lately to throw Naird under the bus. “I guess I’m going to Colorado.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hasn't been betaed, so all mistakes are my own. :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always appreciated! I'm still getting my writing mojo back so would love any feedback :-)


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